Deployment Doldrums

During the time away, I passed the my two-months in theater mark (and am creeping awfully close to the 2.5 mark). It came and went without any hurrah. We're in the doldrums of the deployment. I've been here long enough that the excitement is gone. I've been here long enough that nothing really surprises me anymore, but not long enough that I can think about going home. I wouldn't call it mundane, but it's become repetitive - my own Groundhog's Day. I wake up and see the same bright sun in the cloudless sky. I feel the same heat (although after a respectable June, it heated up quickly in July. I drive the same truck, to the same office, I eat the same food. And sadly, I seem to be spinning my wheels in the same Iraqi ruts (figuratively, not literally).

But do not despair, my fellow JAG personnel and I have devised a way to keep things moving. Ok, I devised a way and I'm dragging them along with me. We've created themes for each day. Monday: Movie Monday. Tuesday: Table Tennis Tuesday. Wednesday: Breakfast with Joe. Thursday: Take-out Thursday. Friday: Fast food Friday. Saturday: Sather/Stryker Saturday. Sunday: Ice Cream Sundays!

I wouldn't say that we're really committed to this entire schedule, but at least it gives us something different. For example, we've NEVER done Table Tennis Tuesday, but every Tuesday we talk about it. Something new to think about. And we've only watched one movie together on Monday. Although this one might pick up as we increase our movie selections.

Our favorites are Wed, Fri, and Sun. Joe is my terp; he has been over here for over a year and dreams of returning to the states to start a restaurant. To pass the time, he cooks out of his CHU. It's amazing the types of food he can create with a microwave. Dolmas, hummus, tabouli, and all kinds of other exotic foods that are created with I-don't-know. Every Wed morning we get together to sample Joe's weekly fare. I keep hoping it'll turn into a Tuesdays with Morrie deal, but I think Joe is too sarcastic for me to find any material. Unless you might think people want to read his response when I asked him to impart upon me some wisdom he's gathered over the years of living in so many different places: "Capt M, I don't think, I just translate the brilliant things you have to say."

On Friday, we all order fast food type food at the DFAC (dining facility). We're all trying to eat healthy over here (some more than others), so Friday is our day to pick up a burger, corn dog, french fries, etc. from the line. Thursdays aren't really "take out" as much as "go out" Thursdays. There are a few restaurants around VBC that we're going to start hitting up when we run out of patience with the DFAC - that includes some local fare, but also the BKs, Popeyes, Subways, etc. that are on base. It's just nice to have something different.

Sather/Stryker are two other bases contained on VBC. I have to work by them, so I try to make the other 2 leave the comfort of RPC and join me. It hasn't happened very often. The other JAG here is trying to turn Saturday into "Soft Serve Saturdays" and I'm not sure if it's because he likes soft serve that much or hates going to Sather/Stryker that much.

And finally - the absolute favorite - Ice Cream Sunday. As I've said, we're trying to eat healthy, but there's always free Blue Bell ice cream! For the first few weeks we were all eating it every other day or so. Probably not the best way to do things - so in an effort to cut down on the bad habits as well as to celebrate another week gone by, we (I) limit ourselves to ice cream only on Sundays. I'm really the only one truly committed to the principle, but the others are pretty good at limiting themselves. I really think it helps the week go by a little faster, and I know that I get really excited for the indulgence on Sunday - I think it even helps the ice cream taste better.

In a fit of perfect serendipity, my paralegal's birthday was last Sunday. We decorated the office with supplies sent over by her husband and celebrated with a DFAC dinner on "Happy Birthday" plates and ice cream for dessert. Here's a picture of her blowing out her "candle"

And the card I got her. They didn't have a "Happy Birthday to my Paralegal" card at the PX so I improvised:

If at First you don't Succeed

Call it version 1.0.

I guess that means this is version 2.0. Not that it's any better, but it's a continuation of my previous posts. Only now I'm no longer in Colorado or Alabama, but in the middle of Iraq. I've sent a few mass email updates, but realized that instead of flooding inboxes with pictures and stories, I'm going to come back and try the blog again. I'll probably repost some of my previous emails, just so I don't miss anyone I might have left out in the emails.

Yes, it has been a while since I either posted or emailed. As the next few posts will explain. Some of the absence was beyond my control; some of the absence I just let happen...

One reason I've been slow in sending out an update is that I lost my computer. I didn't lose it as in "misplaced", as much as lost it in "it's no longer functioning properly." While I'm certain the computer would have been fixed with one trip to the Geek Squad or Nerd Herd, or any computer nerd shop (heck, there's a couple of folks in my family who fit that bill), I am sadly no where near any such shop.

Instead of fighting and fussing over a fix, I decided to scrap the netbook and buy a full laptop. The netbook is good for short trips, when you don't want to pack a laptop, but it really did not function well as my fulltime computer. I won't tell on the family that convinced me the netbook was the way to go, but they know who they are - and to think I tRUSTed them. I'm very happy with the upgrade. I can now surf more than 2 webpages at a time and watch DVDs without squinting.

The Upgrade

So, what have I been up to in the meantime? Well, my faithful paralegals were a step ahead - as they usually are. These are the same paralegals who saved me in Balad. I told you that the room there in Balad was absolutely horrendous, but it was the smell that made it unbearable. Luckily, TSgt Spaulding and SSgt Barker had the foresight to provide me with gel that I'm supposed to hang in my closet and make everything smell better - and even better, they gave it to me after I had shipped my belongings over here, so I had to carry them with me. That meant they were accessible in Balad instead of sitting at VBC. Well, with a little ingenuity, I made those gel packets work for me (ok, it was very little ingenuity; wasn't really that brilliant of an idea) - as always, the simplest solution is the best.

But, I digress - other than the scented gel packs, they also provided me a 1000 piece puzzle. 1000 pieces is a lot to deal with, but they also decided to get me the small pieces! It worked not only my mind, but my eyes and my dexterity as well. It was not only a great way to spend some time, it was also a great scene! I liked it so much, I even redid the middle section (after it fell apart when I was positioning it for the picture).

In fact, this is now how I imagine my post-retirement ranch; I'm even going to require Anna to wear the period clothing. If she wants her German Shepherd, she's going to have to dress like a olde tyme German shepherd.

Also, The puzzle was nice and relaxing, which is what I needed while I tried to salvage the data from my old computer. I was really worried that I was going to lose all the pictures I had taken during the deployment. With gnashed teeth and bated breath, I struggled to recover the data. Finally (luckily), I was able to figure out the right key combinations (my graphics driver failed so I couldn't see anything on my screen) to save my data from the computer and transfer it to an external hard drive. I'm certain that I've left a lot of information on the netbook, but I got my pictures back!

So, what does this mean to you? It means I can reveal my cliffhanger of a month ago. It's really not that exciting. In fact, by now it's just downright blase (not a perfect use of the word, but I wanted to force it in there for the pun, since I've been babbling about computers - Blaise Pascal anyone?!). If you've already glanced at the picture below, you might be wondering what exactly you're looking for. Yeah, I get it. That's why I finally called it off. It was a grand experiment that turned into just an experiment that turned into a failed experiment. The Iraqi culture is very facial hair focused. If a man makes a promise to you and rubs his moustache, then that promise is supposed to be extra binding (I guess that holds true for the women, too, but I don't think it's as common). A man with facial hair is supposed to be more masculine, more competent and more powerful. As you can see, my attempt conveyed the exact opposite. Maybe it didn't, maybe the Iraqis just thought that I got some sand caught on my upper lip. I don't know what they thought of me, but in the end, I just had to let it go. It's not like this moustache - good moustache, better man!

I think I'm laughing so hard in this picture because I just saw my reflection...